


You In Me

by mistyhollowdrummer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And I will, Based off Kpop, Because I can, Because when do I not write smut?, Enemies to lover trope, F/M, Idol AU, Might as well be a Kpop AU, Some smut to come, lots of tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29159589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyhollowdrummer/pseuds/mistyhollowdrummer
Summary: It's a given that dating in the idol world is pretty much taboo, but when her whole career to come is built off of a fictitious relationship that may or may not be growing on her?Might as well throw her to the wolves now.
Relationships: Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. It's been a hot minute since I've done something like this. Let's just jump right in, shall we?  
> Welcome to my attempt at an idol AU where everything I know about Idols is from the harsh realities of K-Pop. Don't at me guys. I may or may not know what I'm doing here.
> 
> Songs referenced in this chapter:  
> You In Me: Kard (I promise this is a really good song. The title is just... Interesting...)  
> More: K/DA

She heard the music that pounded through her feet overtake the stadium. Her palms were sweaty, but there was a grip between her fingers that leveled her out of her anxiety-induced worry, grounding her and reminding her that everything was alright. Everything was okay.

She looked up, meeting blue eyes shrouded by the dark around them as the crowd around them cheered, their screams of happiness and excitement intensified as the music picked up.

As lights began to plunge them into a burning heat, she took in a deep, steady breath.

_“My love, you are my everything._

_You are mine; you are my everything._

_Why don’t you know, nothing can replace you…?”_

Lance’s fingers tightened in hers, pulling her close and guiding her backwards. Her knees hit the metal frame of the bed before she allowed herself to be guided down, the shouts of the audience around them loud and overbearing. Without the earpiece in her ear, she wouldn’t hear the music, or her own voice as it traveled through her lips into the mic taped to her cheek.

_“So painful, propane on the distrust._

_Of you and me pour it and burn it up.”_

Lance’s voice was as smooth as honey. Flawless like it always was, making her knees tremble. Or maybe that was the way he slowly hovered over her, hands pressing her own into the mattress below them and keeping her there. His blue stare did a lot of that too, keeping her locked up and trapped under his gaze as she was left to wonder, nearly missing her next line.

How did they get here?

* * *

_One year ago_

* * *

_“More, now I got it so here you go._

_You look like you could use some more.”_

Pidge tossed her hands over her head before doing a swift spin, making a heart symbol with her fingers. Mic up to her lips, she breathed in a little too loudly, and winced when she noticed the way the men in black suits and matching ties shared looks with one another.

Damn it. She always had problems controlling her breathing, but now was not the time to have that issue.

_“Now I got it and I’m never running low._

_Yeah I got more than enough add it up and away._

_You know I got it like bomb bomb blow your mind.”_

This style of pop was never her thing. She never considered herself a dancer either, but under the Coalition Company, she didn’t have a choice. She had learned every style of dance and music that was offered and then some, because she had to be educated on every subject if she ever wanted to make a good impression on the public. 

_“Never giving less and that’s how it’ll stay._

_You know I got it like all day all the time.”_

The men shared interested looks.

That’s right, what she lacked with dance she made up for with her high notes. That’s why her team had her pick them up instead. She took the high notes, Nyma took the rap, Allura took the main vocals, and Romelle took the visuals. That was their little team put together, and it seemed like they were doing well making a good impression.

Now was her time to show what she had spent her years training for.

_“Way out._

_Feeling like the ocean on the wave now._

_Feeling like I’m floating never weighed down._

_This is how I do it every day, wow wow.”_

Her team pulled close, their steps in sync with her voice as she sang. For added effect, she flipped her long hair over her shoulder and winked at the men, showing off that she too was a visual in the group. She had what was called the total package, and they could trust in her to be the next big thing. They just had to give her a chance.

_“But I know, I know you want some more._

_I know what you’ve been asking for._

_I know I know you want some more._

_If you’re ready let’s go, giving it all.”_

Her voice carried through the room, and a few of the other trainees erupted into applause despite everyone being told to stay quiet when the teams made their rounds. She ended her high note dropping to the ground and landing in her final pose without a beat missed, smiling to the men with every ounce of confidence she could muster despite feeling like her lungs were about to collapse on her. Despite her training, she was still easily winded. However, she was one of the few more esteemed trainees this year.

She’d only been under the Coalition for two years now and had made more progress than any other trainee. She was guaranteed a spot in the company’s newest lineup for the season. It was just a matter of making that perfect first impression.

That was all that mattered.

At the end of their number, with all four of them posing, the room finally applauded, now no longer a distraction. Pidge controlled her smile to be humbler, but inside she was a mixture of emotions. Mostly an overbearing sense of pride because she did that. She did it, but it quickly morphed into dread.

_Was it enough…?_

“Thank you very much, team C.” Zarkon spoke over the cheers, which settled the room into silence. “Go ahead and take your leave.”

Zarkon was a man of very little words. He was harsh, harsher on his idols, and spent very little time mincing words when that time could be spent working his idols until they were perfect.

There was no such thing as practice makes perfect in his book. It was just and only perfect. Otherwise, you were nothing.

“Thank you,” Allura said as the four of them bowed to the remaining groups, then went for their stuff. Pidge paused before grabbing her water bottle at the loud wolf whistle that broke through the dense quiet, sneering over towards team D.

It wasn’t them in particular. No, it was just one guy.

Lance McClain. Self-appointed ladies’ man and the biggest annoyance of her life.

This dude got here only a year ago, and amongst the male trainees, he was considered a prodigy, just like her. Apparently, he had flubbed up even the simplest of dance steps, but within a month had learned just about everything there was that needed to be known. He also played a number of instruments too, but she couldn’t imagine a guy like him playing anything more than pots and pans.

He was a scrub of a guy. He fooled around with all the girl trainees (highly against their contracts), and messed around during every training session, constantly finding ways to connect his Bluetooth to the speakers and change the music mid dance to something completely unrelated and, often times, inappropriate.

His style of dance was something she considered closer to crumping. He wasn’t a bad dancer, but he fooled around so often and intentionally messed up steps for attention that she couldn’t say he was a good one either.

His singing was a different matter. He wasn’t a bad singer, she would admit; he had better control with his breathing than she did, but he lacked stability while dancing. Granted, his dances were much harder than hers were, but she figured if he had all that time to fool around, he could have spent it practicing and strengthening his core and diaphragm.

And he pissed her off.

She worked hard to get here. She spent weeks on just one thing, just to move onto the next. Countless nights staying up late, or not even sleeping at all, were spent training her ass off to get where she was today.

Meanwhile McClain waltzed right in and pulled crap stunts to get the attention he wanted, and she just had to wonder how a guy who did all this was still even allowed to walk through the doors.

“Team D. Go ahead and get ready.” Zarkon announced.

Pidge turned away and acted like she hadn’t heard Lance’s whistle, pretending he just simply didn’t exist as he and a few other of his team members got ready for their performance. She wasn’t even going to stay to see it.

“Nice job, Pidgeritto.”

God damn it.

Pidge rolled her eyes, at first hoping that maybe if she acted like she hadn’t heard him, he’d leave her alone. It didn’t work.

“You gonna wish me luck?” He asked, his voice teasing as his fingers tugged on a lock of her hair stuck under the strap of her tank top.

“Bite me.” She uttered before shrugging her duffel bag over her shoulder. She could hear his snicker as she walked out, refusing to turn around and see that smug little grin on his lips.

No, not today. She did well, and she wasn’t about to let him ruin that.

* * *

“Allura,” Pidge called out, poking her head out of the bathroom later that evening. “Have you seen the toothpaste?”

“I haven’t, no. I think Romelle used it last.” The young woman answered in that regal way she did.

“Oh, I stuck it on my shelf, sorry.” Romelle looked up from her phone where she sat on the couch. “By the way, your phone won’t stop ringing.”

Pidge groaned, shuffling herself out of the room to the kitchen where she left her phone on the counter and picked it up. She missed two calls, both from Zarkon, and just as she was about to return the call, he called again.

“Gee, important much…?” Nyma joked with her, but the words went right over her head.

“It’s Zarkon…” Pidge mumbled, feeling a subtle shake in her hands. Just like that, the three girls in the room jumped from where they were to crowd around her, Allura edging her to answer her phone while Romelle pushed at her shoulders. Pidge answered, hushing them quickly before she missed another called.

“Hello…?”

The group waited with bated breath, Romelle’s grip on Pidge’s shoulders growing painful.

“… Yes sir… Yes… Okay… Yes sir… Thank you. Goodbye.” She hung up, slowly lowering the phone. The girl’s took notice of the mixed look of emotions running through her eyes.

“Well, well?” Nyma asked.

“What’d he say?” Allura asked her, taking her hand that didn’t hold her phone.

“… I’m debuting,” Pidge said, and as the words left her lips, the heavy realization hit her hard, making a smile spread across her lips.

The three girls shot up in excitement, jumping and cheering, Nyma even going so far as to lift Pidge off the ground and jump with her in her arms. It was a whirlwind of emotions, and as much as Pidge wanted to be overjoyed, to fly to the moon and back, this only meant one thing for her.

The real work was about to begin.

* * *

Pidge steeled herself with an anxious breath as she walked off the elevators, bag in hand and strap practically crushed in her grip. She walked into the hallway, coming up to a desk by the main doors and looking around. No one was there, but when she looked at the chairs lined up, she realized she wasn’t alone.

Oh how she wished she was.

There he was. Lance McClain. Sitting with a leg tossed over his knee and playing some annoying game on his phone, a tiny melody blaring throughout the space while he looked no less than interested in it. Hadn’t he ever heard of vibrate?

Pidge cleared her throat, only with the intention to get rid of the building anxiety weighing heavy on her mind, but Lance looked up anyway, eyes narrowing for just a moment before he smirked.

“What’s up, Pigeritto?” He asked, looking back down at his phone to close the app.

“I’ve asked you to stop calling me that enough times already.” She grumbled before taking a seat in one of the few chairs in the room, the only one opposite him. It wasn’t far enough away in her opinion.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He retorted as he slowly leaned back into his chair. “So what brought you here?”

“You tell me why you’re here first.” She challenged him.

“Got a call from Zarkon. I’m not holding my breath, but it kinda sounds like I’m going to be debuting.” He may have seemed disinterested in the topic, but she heard just the slightest shake in his voice.

Pidge was genuinely surprised by that, not because she thought he lacked talent, but it just seemed too coincidental that he was here with the same reasoning.

“Really…?”

“Gee, don’t sound so surprised.” He frowned at her when she seemed so taken aback, turning away to cross his arms over his chest.

Before Pidge could even open her mouth to correct him, the door to Zarkon’s office opened. Lance shot up far quicker than she did, back ramrod straight like he was about to salute the man while she slowly stood.

“Come in.” The man said in lieu of a greeting, because Zarkon was a man with little patience for pleasantries.

The two walked into the room, a room not unfamiliar, but one they didn’t often frequent, and for good reason. Being in here either was good news or spelled imminent doom, and it wasn’t often that groups got the chance to debut. Once in about every four to five years, so one could imagine that this office wasn’t very warm and friendly.

It was a room dolled up with white tiled floors, leather couches and chairs, and a rather large wooden desk in the middle of it all, where a stack of papers sat, as if daunting them. Waiting for them.

Pidge took in a deep breath, trying to reign herself in. Lance was right in a way, despite how much she didn’t want to admit that. There was still a lot to factor in for her debut, and chances were, there was a lot she’d have to go over to make sure it happened.

_If it happened?_

“Have a seat,” Zarkon gestured to the couch with one hand, where Lance slowly sat. She could see the stiffness in his shoulders, his posture straight, unlike what he’d been sitting like only moments before in the waiting area. His knuckles were practically white around his silent phone, game no longer entertained.

Pidge took a seat opposite him, setting her bag down beside her, and suddenly the weight of the situation really hit her. She could feel her whole body taking up a posture much like Lance’s own, and for a moment she felt like she could actually understand and agree with how he felt.

“I’m sure you know why you’re here.” Zarkon began, leaning back into his desk, a large hand of his pressing into the ever-looming stack of papers and twisting them slightly. “You two will be debuting.”

The moment the words left his lips, the two years of training she’d spent, the two years of torn muscles, sore throats, tears, sleepless nights (quite literally) and a strict diet made it all worth it. It took everything in her not to break down into tears right then and then, sucking in her bottom lip to keep herself contained, if only for now.

Just wait, she told herself. Wait until the time was right.

“That’s amazing,” Lance breathed a sigh of relief, his whole body falling over his knees, his shoulders shaking.

“You two have shown exemplary skills, and if you’re interested, your contract is ready and waiting.” Zarkon tapped the stack of papers gently.

“Hell yeah,” Lance said, standing up to sign the papers before something in Pidge seemed to click.

“Sir,” She spoke up, and Lance stopped just short of signing the papers

“Yes?” Zarkon asked.

“You said… _Our_ contract?”

Zarkon’s head lulled ever so slightly, as if thinking of his next words carefully.

“You two will be debuting as a duo. We’ve decided that your personalities, while clashing, would make for an excellent “opposites attract” couple scenario for the fans to follow.”

“Wait, what?” Lance didn’t understand where he was going with us.

“You want us to date?” Pidge gaped at the man, and suddenly Lance stepped back from the man, a flush on his cheeks.

“No, dating is forbidden in your contracts. The audience will believe you are though.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second.” Lance practically slammed the pen down on the table. “You want me to play lovey dovey with auto pilot over there?”

“Auto pilot?” Pidge stood from the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. “What a joke coming from the comedian himself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m calling _you_ a joke.” She berated with a sneer. “You show up late to morning vocal lessons, your dancing style is weak in comparison to someone like Keith who has been here for years, and you-!”

“Oh what a way to hurt my pride coming from miss auto pilot over here!” He interrupted with a pointed finger.

“Don’t call me that-!”

“Enough!” Zarkon’s baritone voice boomed over their argument, silencing their petty squabble in a matter of milliseconds. Pidge recoiled in surprise while Lance outright jumped from his skin. They’d never heard Zarkon’s voice go any higher than a small laugh before, and to hear him shout was no less than terrifying.

“I’m sorry, sir…” Pidge mumbled, her head dropping to avoid his gaze.

“Sir, with all do respect,” Lance began, finally setting the pen down on the desk. “I’m not working with her. I’m not working with some uptight wannabe primadonna whose only goal is to belittle people who aren’t up to her standards.”

“And I’m not working with some slack off who takes this whole thing as a joke.” Pidge joined in. To that, Lance shot a sneer in her direction.

For once, this was the only thing they could agree on.

“It’s either this,” Zarkon set his hand over the contract again. “Or not at all.”

The words hit her like a ton of bricks, weighing down her shoulders and making the back of her throat clench in anxiety.

So if she chose not to work with Lance, that was it? She wasn’t allowed to debut at all? All her hard work, and for what?

Absolutely nothing.

She looked up, catching Lance’s eyes on her, the same look of worry written in his eyes. He may have taken this for a joke, but he was here for a reason. Whatever that reason may be, not debuting showed the same anxiety settling over his head that it did hers.

What did this mean for them, really? What lengths would they have to go to in order to make her dream come true?

The fans just had to believe them. All they had to do was act, a task that at one point or another she had been fully prepared for. She’d be putting on an act to make herself out to be this perfect person anyway, so what all needed to be done to show she was serious?

Flirt? Make eyes at each other? Zarkon didn’t allow dating, and obviously, the man that he was, wouldn’t allow serious contact with each other to keep on a certain respectable level.

So was this it then? All or nothing?

Pidge bit her bottom lip before walking away from the couch and to the desk where Lance had left the pen, taking it up and pulling the contract out from under Zarkon’s hand.

“Are you serious?” Lance asked, seemingly in shock.

“You aren’t going to be the reason this is taken from me. I’ve worked too damn hard to get here.” She said, not even bothering to read the fine print. She signed where the first X on the paper was, then flipped the page over. “And if that means I’ve have to play a part then so be it.”

She had planned to do it anyway.

She continued signing away, and when the last paper was signed in her chicken-scratch handwriting, she turned to Lance and held out the pen.

He seemed no less than bewildered, looking between her, Zarkon, the pen and the contract by their sides. His shoulders were tense, and his eyebrows were knit tightly together, the decision sitting painfully over him.

She wasn’t sure if the time it was taking him to make a decision was insulting to her or not.

“… Okay,” He finally agreed, snatching the pen from her hand and bending down to sign the first page.

“Glad you’re on board,” Zarkon said, standing up straight. “Your debut date has yet to be set, but we’ll begin your new schedules starting next week.”

Three days. That was all she had left before life was about to be flipped upside down.

* * *

Oh yeah. That was how. How could she forget?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Here we go again.  
> I forgot to give a big shoutout to Revolution_no_9 (Boop, it's Lee) for the help with these chapters last time. She's been so kind as to proof these and give me lots of tips for reworking some stuff and I've really appreciated her help. So big shoutout to her and all her awesome work. :) 
> 
> Songs referenced in this chapter:  
> Don't Recall  
> You in Me  
> Gunshot  
> Dimelo- Kard  
> (Just assume couple songs used in this fanfic will be from Kard and life shall go on without any problems)

It was close to seven the next morning when Pidge was awoken by an incessant knocking.

She groaned, rolling over onto her back to look up at her glow-in-the-dark starred ceiling, wondering what could have possibly been the interruption from her deep sleep, one she hadn’t gotten in a long time, before there was an irritating knock on her door again.

“What…?” She called out, whining as she rolled back over on her stomach. She heard the door open, but she didn’t bother to look back and see who it was.

“How do you get anything done in this mess, Pidgeritto?”

Wait.

That was definitely not any of her roommates.

Pidge’s head shot up, looking over her shoulder to see none other than her newly appointed partner standing there looking about her room with thinly veiled disgust. He held a carton with two coffee cups in it, and his other hand rested carefully on his hip, a bag clutched between his fingers and hip.

“Get out!” She yelled, throwing her pillow at him. It narrowly missed the cups, and with a yip he darted down the hall and out of her sight, but she could hear him laughing all the way to the living room.

Pidge hurriedly got up and got dressed, rushing to throw on more appropriate clothes before nearly stomping out of her room and to the living room where Lance stood with Allura, her hair up in a messy bun and barely keeping her eyes open, and Nyma, who was laying on the couch in her sleep clothes. Romelle must have still been asleep, taking in that she wasn’t in the room.

To Pidge, seeing her roommate in her sleep clothes was normal, but realizing Lance was in the room only meant there was a man there to gawk at Nyma’s lacy, satin pajamas that hung loosely off of her shoulders and hips.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, getting right to the point. She was too tired to deal with pleasantries, and certainly not with the likes of him

“What am I doing here?” Lance asked, setting the carton down on the island counter before taking one of the cups from it. “Pidge, it’s studio day! Today’s the day we pick out our first single! You didn’t forget, did you?”

He took one of her hands that was crossed over her chest and placed the coffee cup in it before roughing up her hair, to which she reared back and swatter his hand away, as carefully as she could with the cup in her other hand, before combing her hair back down.

“I know,” She said, sniffing what was in her cup. Coffee. Sweet, sweet coffee, and just what she needed so early in the morning.

“We need to be at the studio in an hour, so hurry up and get dressed!” Lance was the perfect picture of an excited child, practically bouncing on his heels until he caught sight of Nyma again, and wandered over to where she was still laying on the couch, barely awake. “But uh, you can stay just like this, pretty thing.”

“Hey, genius, we’re supposed to be dating. Might want to tone down the flirting so we don’t blow it to the world that we actually don’t get along too well.” Pidge reminded him, her hip jutting to the side as she took a sip of her coffee.

Lance waved a hand in her direction, his eyes not coming off of Nyma who hadn’t bothered to move besides rolling over on her side. Normally Nyma wasn’t one for flirting, but in the mornings, she wasn’t one for anything.

“Hey Pidge,” Allura called out to her from the kitchen with a gravely, tired voice. “Come look at what’s on the newest article of _In the Now.”_

Pidge wandered to the kitchen, and finally Lance had the decency to stop gawking at her roommate long enough to follow her, his curiosity piqued. Pidge leaned over Allura’s arm, looking at her phone and blinking back the morning fuzz to read the title in bold letters.

_“Coalition Company Launching its First Idol Couple?”_

“They’re talking about us…” Lance muttered, leaning over Allura’s shoulder.

 _“The Coalition Company is known for it’s strict rules and regulations against dating, but it seems they’ve turned a blind eye on it’s newest duo, a couple coming out and defined by their unique sound inspired by their love for one another.”_ Pidge mumbled the words on Allura’s phone screen, reaching up to scroll down further. _“While their identities haven’t been revealed, all that’s been given of the two is that they’ve been dating for a few years now, adamant about going against Coalition Company’s rules and showing the world their strong bond.”_

“When in reality anyone caught dating under this company would instantly be kicked out.” Allura uttered, rolling her eyes. She remembered a few trainees who had tried, and who had all promptly been removed for it only after being caught.

“You see that, Lance?” Pidge asked, turning to look up at the taller teen. “The world knows now. You’re going to have to do better about this performance if you want to make it big.”

She’d been expecting some sort of retort to that. Some snarky remark or well thought out sarcastic rebuttal that would irritate her into stomping like a child, but there was nothing of the sort. Instead, all she could see in his eyes was a bit of apprehension, hi eyebrows drawn tightly, but why would he be nervous? Lance wasn’t that type of guy.

* * *

Pidge had been in studios before. As a trainee, one had to know how to use the equipment, stand where she needed to for the mic to perfectly pic up her voice, and so on, but there was an anxious buzz in the air this time around as her and Lance as they stepped into the studio, where the sound engineer sat at his table, checking the sound levels carefully.

“Good morning,” A man said to them as he stood up from the table in the middle of the room. He was a tall man with muscles that would make Lance jealous, a tuff of white hair in the front that didn’t look professionally done and Asian features that looked like they belonged on the cover of a magazine.

“Morning,” Lance held out his hand when the man did, giving it a firm shake before Pidge did the same.

“I’m Takashi Shirogane. I’m sure Zarkon mentioned you’d be getting a manager, and well. Here I am.” The man said, his shoulder’s shrugging gently.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Shirogane.” Pidge said, her voice wavering just the slightest bit.

“Please, call me Shiro.” He assured them before motioning to the table. “Come sit. We’ve got a lot to go over.”

“Are those our sheet music?” Lance asked, throwing his jacket over his chair and sitting quickly. Pidge followed, but slowly, taking everything in one thing at a time. Otherwise, she felt like her head would explode.

“Yes, we have a few different songs here to go over.”

“I thought we were doing just a debut single?” Pidge asked, looking at the titles of each song.

“You are, but in most cases we like to have a few different options to see which we feel will better fit your image.” Shiro explained.

“So… You know we aren’t really…?” Lance couldn’t finish his sentence as he motioned between him and Pidge.

“I’m aware, yes. Zarkon has briefed me on everything going on and has given me pretty strict orders to watch your every move.”

“As he does,” Lance added with a snort.

“Yes well. Coalition doesn’t allow dating, but you have to play the part that you do. That means, if anything, I have to keep tighter reins on my job.” Shiro assured with a laugh.

“Oh trust me. You don’t have to worry about that.” Lance chortled.

Pidge rolled her eyes before she looked about the sheet music on the table in front of them, taking in the song titles and reading some of the lyrics.

_Dimélo_

_Gunshot_

_Don’t Recall_

Her mind was in a whirlwind of anxiety just looking at all of them. They were only supposed to choose one, and this one song had to perfectly encompass who they were as a couple. This was their debut song after all, and to secure their roll as a couple, it had to be exemplary.

_“Yo te quiero asi_

_Dimelo, dimelo, dimelo, dimelo_

_Te quiero asi (Te quiro asi)”_

Pidge turned her head in surprise, looking at Lance as he mumbled the lyrics to one of the songs under his breath, his finger tapping out a slow beat. His tongue rolled with the R’s and drew out a fluent accent she didn’t think was possible from him.

_“Te quiero solo para mi_

_Dimelo, dimelo, dimelo, dimelo_

_Te quiero asi (Te quiro asi)”_

“… You speak Spanish?” She asked, because truly she couldn’t replicate what he was doing if she tried. Only someone who was fluent in it could sound the way he did.

“I mean I should. I’m from Cuba after all.” He said without looking up, but his lips held a ghost of a smirk.

“You are?”

“You didn’t know, Pidgeritto?” Finally he looked up, still with that dumb smirk that always irked her.

“Well how am I supposed to know?” She retorted, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair.”

“You’re going to have to work on that.” Shiro interjected before they could get into another argument.

“Work on what?” Pidge asked.

“ _That_. You two need to have a story. A foundation to work off of. You need to act like you’ve _been_ dating, and that means knowing the ins and outs of one another.” The older man explained, his hands resting against the table. “You’ve been dating for two years. Act like it.”

“We actually have to sit down and tell each other our stories?” Lance asked with a frown.

“What’s wrong with that?” Pidge questioned.

“Doesn’t that seem a little… Invasive?”

“It’s not like he wants you to know about my masturbation habits. Holy hell.” Pidge bit out, to which Lance’s eyes went wide in surprise. “He’s talking about us knowing our favorites colors, taste in music, _where we’re from_ and our families _._ That kind of stuff.”

“God Pidge, could you be anymore unconventional?”

“Me?” She gaped at him.

“Yes you! You’re a girl! You don’t just blurt out stuff like that!”

“Alright, alright,” Shiro spoke over them, his hands gesturing for the two of them to stop. “I would suggest you two work on this arguing thing as well. This kind of behavior is not going to go over in interviews,” he reminded them.

“It’s not my fault!” Lance yipped.

“So it’s my fault?” Pidge asked.

“Guys, it’s no one’s fault, but you’ve got to get your act together.” Shiro told them. “Like I said. This isn’t going to go well for you if this is how you behave in front of cameras. Off camera and away from fans I don’t care what you do or how you act, but in the public eye you’re a _loving couple_ whose entire career is based on that.” He stressed the words with a narrowed glare.

Pidge and Lance both rolled their eyes, scowling and leaning back in their chairs before Lance grabbed one of the options for their debut song and tossed it to her on the table.

“Here’s my pick,” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. Pidge stuck her tongue out at him when he wasn’t looking before taking up the paper and reading over the title.

_You in Me_

“You in Me?” She questioned skeptically. “That’s the kind of picture you want to paint for the audience?”

“Read the lyrics,” He rolled his eyes again, and to avoid another argument between them, she did just that.

_“My love, you are my everything,_

_My love, you are my everything,_

_Why don’t you know, nothing can replace you,_

_In the corner of the room swallowed by darkness,_

_Your trace or fragments are stuck everywhere,_

_I can’t forget you, even if I erase you…”_

“Huh…” She sounded, reading over the lyrics. “Do we have a sample the background music?”

Shiro nodded his head, looking over to the sound engineer who, until this point, had been absolutely silent, but with his eyes trained on them as if he had been listening to the two of them bicker like it was juicy gossip. The man went to his system and began pulling up the track that was a sample for the song before letting the music play through the room.

The synthetic sound was at first foreign, but the beat dropped into a heavy bass that kept a flow with the synthesized sound. It slowed into a gentle, mellow beat that she found herself tapping her foot to, reading the lyrics at the same time and trying to place where they’d go.

“Not too shabby,” Lance said, tapping his finger. “The only fast counts are the rap, but the rest of the song keeps an even tempo that flows well with it.”

“What, can you hear it in your head?” Pidge asked, but she couldn’t help but smile. Somehow she was hearing it too.

_“Why are you trying to push me away, tell me.”_

Pidge began singing gently as the chorus hit, simply going off the sound of it in her head. She acted like she didn’t notice Lance’s blue eyes looking at her with curiosity.

_“I can tell you’re not serious._

_Why do you keep pushing me away? I can feel everything,_

_Why don’t you say anything to me?_

_I call you like this, you,_

_You don’t answer, I apologize.”_

“Yeah, that’s kinda how I have it in my head too.” Lance said bopping his head to the beat with a wide smile.

Any tension Pidge knew he had been feeling before was gone now, because she felt it too. That heavy air when they walked in, their minds and hearts racing a mile a minute had ceased, instead replaced with a steady thrum of anticipation.

_“So painful, propane on the distrust_

_Of you and me, pour it and burn it up,_

_It’s gone too far to restore dead us,_

_This story is a nightmare…”_

Lance’s voice flowed well with the drop in the beat, his rap, though a bit shaky with the original flow, came out as smooth as butter, complimenting the flow of her singing that edged the song in a way to make it the tragic tale it read to be.

“I think we have our song then.” Shiro spoke with a warm smile that only increased their excitement.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things.  
> One: I'm aware that groups like Kard, Co-Ed School, Checkmate, and so forth have separate living quarters for the boys and the girls, but for the sake of awkward plot development, Pidge and Lance live together.  
> Two: I don't speak Spanish. While this has been proofed and looked over, maybe there's one or two mistakes? I wouldn't know. I don't speak Spanish, so be kind.  
> Also ya know. Enjoy. Because I'm happy when you do.

Taking the first steps into their new apartment was more or less anxiety inducing.

Pidge knew that debuting with a group or someone else meant living with them. That was a given amongst the company. Idols often shared living quarters, though it was a rule that men and woman didn’t share living spaces for the obvious reasons. However, given their awkward situation, it seemed like they didn’t have a choice.

The apartment complex all the idols lived in was connected right to The Coalition Company’s headquarters for easy access. Pidge never knew that the living conditions they were in were on a whole new level of glamour and luxury she wasn’t used to with her roommates, however.

“Holy hell…” Lance was just as awestruck as she was, his backpack slung over his shoulder nearly falling off to the freshly paneled wooden floor while the box of his belongings hung heavy in his hands.

“Sounds about right…” Pidge agreed, stepping further into their apartment, just to hear her footsteps echo off of the walls. That was how big the place truly was.

She couldn’t stop herself from openly gawking at everything in sight, from the fresh wooden floors to the marble counter tops in the open kitchen. She didn’t even need to look upstairs to see that it would be amazing, because there were _stairs._ Their apartment had stairs, which meant they had two whole floors to themselves. No doubt there would be more than one bathroom in this place.

Holy hell. Her own bathroom. She hadn’t had one in two years and fought every morning with Nyma and Romelle for just ten minutes of privacy in the morning to shower when they hogged it doing their makeup.

“This is all us? All to ourselves?” Lance asked what she was thinking, looking back at Shiro as he walked into the hall with a box of Pidge’s belongings. He’d been helping them move the whole time, but they had only been setting the boxes outside of the door. This was their first time walking in to see what they’d really be living in.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Shiro said with a grunt as he set down her box. “But listen. This isn’t a party place. You don’t get to trash it, because this is still The Coalition’s property.”

“Might want to tell that to miss pigsty over here.” Lance mumbled, leaning closer to the older man, but Pidge still caught it, sticking her tongue out at him while his back was turned to her.

“House rules, okay?” Shiro began and continued when prompted by their groans. “I know you know them already, but it’s my job and I have to go over it with you. Like I said, no trashing the place. Also, unless prompted by me, no visitors. You’re going to have security downstairs who will let you know who is showing up, and it should only be I or anyone else I have with me, or on rare occasions where I allow someone else up here. Understood?”

“Sir yes sir!” Lance saluted Shiro with a hand to his head, making Pidge roll her eyes. So much for taking things seriously.

“Unless prompted by your schedules, your curfew is eight. No later. This isn’t strict because of me here, guys. Security mandates it and will report if you’re gone any later to Zarkon, so just behave and be home on time.”

“Explain that to all of our adoring fans hoarding us away.” Lance mused with raised brows and a smirk, elbowing Pidge’s side.

“Lance, I’m serious.” Shiro berated him with a pointed glare. “Finally, and here comes the awkward part, but while you two are given special permission to live together, this doesn’t mean you’re allowed… Privacy.”

“Ugh, Shiro,” Pidge whined as she set her bag down on the couch. “We aren’t actually dating. Nothing is going to happen between us.”

“I know you aren’t, but I still have to give you this talk. No kissing, touching, or anything leading to us having to tell the press you’ll be leaving the industry. You’re still forbidden to date under your contracts, and as such, that means you need to control yourselves.”

“Shiro, no offense, but look at me.” Lance said, motioning over himself. “I’m a straight dime. If it weren’t for her I’d have a better list to choose from.”

“Excuse me?” Pidge gaped at him, her hands falling to her hips.

“I don’t care what list you have, Lance. Behave yourselves.” Shiro pointed at both of them. “It’s either that or I give you both the horrible dad talk and make everyone’s life harder than it needs to be.”

“No need to tell me twice, Shiro. I promise that nothing will happen.” Pidge assured him.

“Are you saying you don’t want to get with this?” Lance asked her.

 _“Lance.”_ Shiro’s tone was no less than done.

* * *

She wasn’t sure what she was doing up at this hour. Two in the morning was way too early to be awake, especially since they had their first dance practice together tomorrow, and yet here she was, laying in bed, staring up at her ceiling that didn’t have her stars put up yet, and wondering why on Earth she’d be awake.

Anticipation maybe? She could only wonder, but instead she slowly rolled out of bed, walking along the cold wooden floor so unfamiliar to her now.

Mental note: Buy some rugs later.

Not that their apartment wasn’t nice. On the contrary, it couldn’t be better, but she had grown so accustomed to her small, shared room with carpeted floors and star covered ceiling that had been her home for two years that this felt…

Empty.

Pidge shrugged on her sweater before leaving her room and heading for the stairs. She could tell the light was on in the living room, and as she walked down, she took in the sound of someone talking. Lance, she concluded as she quietly walked, stopping just at the last few stairs to see him rubbing at his eyes while he was looking at his phone, but there was a tired smile on his face as people on the other side of his screen all spoke at once, too quick to understand.

No, not just that. It wasn’t even English.

“¿Cómo estás, mamá?” Lance spoke, and there was that roll of his tongue that Pidge was instantly intrigued by.

 _“Bien Mijo! ¿Y tú?”_ From where she stood at the base of the stairs, Pidge could hear an older woman’s voice come through past the cacophony of voices. Lance’s tired eyes seemed to brighten even more despite his sleep deprived state, and judging from the context, she could safely conclude that he was talking with his family. His mother no doubt.

“Bien. Estoy cansada…” Lance rubbed his eyes again.

_“¿Estás trabajando duro?”_

“Si mamá. Estoy haciendo lo major que puedo. Pidge también está trabajando duro.”

Pidge knew that she shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. She had no right to butt in on his privacy, but at the sound of her name, her curiosity was piqued. What was Lance saying about her?

Not that it would do her any good. She couldn’t understand a word he or his mom were saying.

 _“¿y ella quien es?”_ The woman must have asked judging by the raise in her tone, sounding almost curious.

“Mi amiga. Es muy dulce. Te qustaría ella.” Lance let out a loud yarn, covering his mouth to cover it up, but she heard his mother still laugh on the other side.

Pidge decided she’d had enough listening in for one night. Her curiosity would get the better of her and she knew it, so instead of letting it, Pidge made a show of loudly walking down the last few steps, making Lance jump in place as he turned to look at her.

“Tengo que ir, mama. Hablamos mas tarde.” Lance looked back at his phone and spoke quickly.

 _“Vale mijo. Cu **í** date.”_ That seemed to be the end of their conversation, and with one last wave from Lance, and a few shouts from other people over his phone, he hung up.

“Who was that so early in the morning?” Pidge asked, keeping up her façade.

“My mom. It’s five in the morning her time so she and my brothers are up taking care of the cows.” He explained as he slowly sat up from the couch. “And what woke you up so early? Hopefully it wasn’t me.”

“I dunno. I just woke up.” Pidge shrugged her shoulders as she walked to the kitchen, shuddering as the cold tile floor hit her feet. “Your family has cows?”

“Just two. A few hens and roosters. One lazy ass pig.” Lance followed her, beginning his search for a cup in the many cupboards that they had. They still had no idea where anything was in this place.

“So do you guys have a farm then or do you just have an interest in weird pets?” Pidge asked him mid yawn.

“We used to have more animals, but uh… We don’t anymore.”

There was something in Lance’s tone that seemed off. Something in the way his eyes looked at her for a split second before looking away that made her curiosity buzz again. She had an itch to know what the underlying message was to what he had said.

Why didn’t they have any more animals, and why exactly was there just no reason for it?

The question that sat at the edge of her tongue, begging to jump off was ignored for now, if not for an even more important matter.

“… Shiro’s right.” She said, letting out a heavy sigh.

“About what?” Lance finally found what he was looking for, grabbing a cup and getting some water out of the sink.

“We’ve got to work on this. We know absolutely nothing about each other, and that’ll show in interviews. What couple doesn’t know even a few small details about their partner after two years of dating?” She asked him, pulling herself up to sit on the counter.

“Listen, no offence to Shiro, but I don’t really like talking about personal matters.” Lance said, leaning against the counter by the sink.

“And we don’t have to, but there’s got to be small things we know, like… What _is_ your favorite color?” She questioned, her legs kicking back and forth, or as much as the counter would allow.

To that, Lance only reached up to scratch by his eye, a grin spreading his cheeks. Pidge rolled her eyes.

“You’re so easy…” She sighed.

“Well what about you?” He asked. “What’s your favorite color?”

“I like green. Ocean colors mostly.”

“Ohh, fancy.” Lance’s sarcasm was, for lack of a better word, _dry_ when he was tired. “Alright, here’s one.” He set his cup down to give her his full attention.

“What made you want to become an idol?” He asked her, leaning in slightly with raised brows and that cocky grin that looked like his patience was hanging on by a thread.

Pidge tilted her head, figuring it best to just tell the truth. They had to know _something_ personal about each other, right? Something to give the interviewers something to read into. Yet there was something in the back of her mind giggling at the idea of it. Play along, it said, because Lance seemed too intrigued by her own reasoning to let it pass.

“… I’ve got something to prove.” She said in lieu of her original response, turning her head to yawn again.

“Something to prove…?” He asked, his face contorting into a moue of confusion.

“Yeah. Something to prove.” She wasn’t completely off, but it was just enough to leave him on the edge of his seat, confused and wanting a clearer picture.

“Like what…?” He pressed on.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Oh come on, Pidgeritto! We’ve got to know more about each other, don’t we?” Lance moved in to lean into her side.

“Start with why you wanted to be an idol and I’ll tell you more.” She said, shrugging her shoulders.

There, she thought. Easy win. He had his own reasons, and if he wanted answers, he’d tell her. Simple as that.

Or at least she thought so. Lance seemed like a naturally curious person by nature, but maybe not as much as she thought. After a few moments of him being quiet, he only smirked, reaching up to ruffle her hair again and make her squawk indignantly.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He said before grabbing for his cup and leaving the kitchen, leaving her there even more confused than he had been only moments before.

* * *

Pidge should have realized that being up so late meant that dance practice would be hell, but it hadn’t even crossed her mind.

It was eight in the morning. Far too early for her liking, since she was someone who liked to sleep in late (something of which she hadn’t been able to do in almost two years). With only two days off a month, she genuinely enjoyed her days in, but this new schedule was about to ruin everything she had hoped she’d have again someday.

Her and Lance shuffled up the outdoor stairs of the dance studio, walking inside and out of the rain to the spacious, air-conditioned room lit brightly with studio lights. Lance shook his head off of the rain, Pidge wincing when it landed on her before she noticed that they weren’t alone.

Two other people were in the studio with them, one a tall man with long white hair down his back, and a woman with cropped short hair, not quite as tall as the man, but taller than her (and Lance now that she looked more closely).

“Ah, and here are the lovebirds now,” The man began, throwing his hands to them. “We were just talking about you.”

“All good things I hope,” Lance said with a crooked smile.

“I’m Lotor, and this is Acxa.” The man introduced, walking up to shake Lance’s hand. “We’re your dance instructors.”

“Nice to meet you,” Pidge said, shaking his hand after Lance. She held out her hand for the woman, _Acxa_ , with every intent to be just as cordial, but it seemed that she wasn’t the warmest or friendliest of people to do that with. All Acxa did was look past her.

Pidge slowly lowered her hand.

“So uh… Dancing huh?” Lance cleared his throat and asked.

“Yes, we created a few variations of the dance, but nothing too complex.” Lotor assured, walking towards the middle of the room. Pidge and Lance followed after shucking off their jackets, throwing them in a pile on the floor by the door. “We decided to be more tender with the couples dance. While we know you two are together, this is more of a heart break song, and we wanted to focus more on that then the _‘couples’_ aspect of your relationship.”

Pidge and Lance spared a glance at one another.

So they didn’t know. Lotor and Acxa had no idea that they weren’t actually together.

That meant that it was time to officially start their act.

As Lotor continued his explanation of the dance, Lance walked up behind Pidge and put his arms around her waist, dropping his chin down on top of her head. Pidge, at first jumping with the shock of having her personal space invaded, grabbed his hands, lacing their fingers together and holding them in place. She was quite surprised how well she fit there, like her height was perfect for him to do so.

Lotor looked back briefly during his explanation, smiling at the two of them before continuing. Something about a pattern in the dance and the story that seemed to go in one ear and out the other for Pidge, because her heart was thudding too harshly for her to pay attention to anything else now.

Acxa didn’t seem nearly as impressed, or felt anything for that matter, but that was okay. She didn’t need to think of anything other than believing that they were together.

It was a small gesture, but it was a start. It was just the beginning of their _“relationship.”_


End file.
